Murder Game
by Ronin-N-Gang
Summary: Rachel is shocked when she meets her uncle, the famous Mr. Augustus. He's a mean spirited, scowling man who had just invited blackmailed a group of celebrities to his island mansion.. Mr. Augustus means business, but so does one of his guest..
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Case Closed and its characters is not mine and will never be mine. I don't have any money so don't sue!

**Murder Game**

**Chapter One**

_Fan fiction By Ronin S. Oath_

Rachel clung to the heavy oak door for support, terrified of the old man seated behind one of the cluttered desk. His Gargoyle eyes- magnified by thick lenses- were huge, wet shimmers in a pale, shiny-bald head, and he hunched into a tight, stoop-shouldered ball as though at any minute he'd fling out moldy wings and swoop toward her and Conan. "What do you think you're doing here?" he snapped.

As long as Rachel could remember, Mr. Augustus had been famous as one of the country's greatest literary novelist, and was almost as well known for his well-publicized socializing with emperors, kings, presidents and a lot of people with tons of money. She had expected to meet the Mr. Augustus with the charming smile and elegant manner- the one she'd seen in so many photographs- but the Mr. Augustus who glared at her and Conan from behind his desk was a much older, scowling, mean-tempered person, and she was clearly shocked.

Conan tried his best to smile but couldn't make it, and began to sweat. Whether it was from the nervous feeling in his gut or because of the heat from the smoldering fire in the huge fireplace behind him, he didn't know.

"I... I'm Rachel and this is Conan," Rachel stammered.

"I didn't ask who you are," he snapped. "I asked what you're doing here."

'Good question,' Conan thought as he looked up at Rachel.

Rachel was beginning to wonder herself, but she took a deep breath and started over. "I'm here because I'm Detective Moore's daughter." His scowl didn't waver, and Rachel wondered if he knew what she meant. "Thea's niece... I suppose I should have waited for her to introduce us, but I couldn't wait to meet you. You're the reason I'm here. I mean, I've heard a lot about Catalina Island and Avalon, and the great beach and the music, and 'island of romance' and all that." His face was crinkling like a dark purple prune, so Rachel quickly added, "but the main reason for my coming is you, Mr. Augustus. I asked Aunt Thea if I could come for a visit before school begins again, because I'm pretty sure I'm going to be a writer, but I don't think I can do it without help, and I brought some stories... I'd be so grateful if you'd read them and tell me if I really have any talent and give me some advice..."

Mr. Augustus exploded from his chair and scuttled around his desk. "Stop that foolish prattle!" he screeched.

Conan realized that he was short, too, and that surprised him. It was hard to think of a literary giant as short, but Mr. Augustus was definitely short. The man was hardly 5'6!

Still maintaining a tight grip on the edge of the door, Rachel mumbled, "I know I talk too much when I get nervous, and I'm really nervous meeting you, Mr. Augustus."

"Then go home," he said.

"We can't," Rachel told him, although at the moment she wished with all her heart that she could. She hadn't been asked to come... She begged her father... She pleaded.

"Young lady," Mr. Augustus said, "I invited you to leave. The correct response would have been 'I will,' not 'I can't.' What do you mean by saying 'I can't'?"

"I mean that because we were coming here my father decided to take a trip he's always wanted to go to the Grand Cayman Islands. That means no one's home, and Dad would be really mad if we went home and lived there alone for two weeks, only we couldn't anyway, because we've got one of those nonrefundable airline tickets and not enough money to get another one, and then there's the matter of food, because all I've got is spending money and..."

Mr. Augustus grimaced as he reached out and grabbed Rachel, his bony fingertips digging into her arms. "I have better plans than entertaining you," he said. "I'm hosting a house party this coming weekend for some very important people, and you'll just be in the way."

"Aunt Thea didn't tell me of a party," Rachel answered.

"Thea didn't know about it."

"Maybe you should've have told her," Conan suggested helpfully, and tried to smile. "You can't blame her for telling us to come and visit, if she didn't know you'd be planning something else."

Rachel quickly added, "Look, we'll stay out of the way while your party's going on. I promise. You won't even know we're here."

Augustus let go of Rachel's arm, and she rubbed it as he stood there silently, looking as if he were thinking over what she'd said. Finally his pupils, swimming like fat fish in goldfish bowls, focused on Rachel. "What room did Thea put you in?"

"It's a big room," Rachel told him. "It's got a huge bed with a dark red spread and a canopy and red carpeting and French doors that open onto a balcony."

"I suppose you'll have to remain on the island, but you can't sleep in that room. It's reserved for Buck Thompson."

"Buck Thompson? You mean the network sportscaster? The guy who does all those shoes commercials with little kids?" Rachel asked with shock.

Mr. Augustus's only answer was a sneer of disgust in her direction. He strode towards the fireplace and yanked on a long, thin piece of tapestry that hung on the wall next to it.

Suddenly a voice spoke up behind them. "Yes, Mr. Augustus?"

Rachel and Conan hadn't heard anyone approach, and both jumped, Conan whirling around to face a slightly plump woman who wore no makeup and whose streaked grey hair was pulled back tightly and knotted at the base of her neck. She was dressed in a navy blue cotton dress with a high neck and long sleeves and looked exactly like what she probably was- a housekeeper.

"Mrs. Engstrom, this is the daughter of Detective Moore and her friend," Mr. Augustus said, leaving off Rachel's and Conan's name as though it weren't important. "Due to Mrs. Augustus's carelessness in not asking my plans, this young woman and child will be our house guest for a brief period of time. They have wrongly been assigned to the Red Room, so please escort them to the tower room at the end of the south wing."

Rachel smiled at Mrs. Engstrom, but she didn't smile back. She gave them the briefest glance and said to Mr. Augustus, "The tower room is quite small and off to itself, sir."

"The other bedrooms will be occupied. Take her things to the tower room," he said with emphasis. "That will be all, Mrs. Engstrom."

She nodded and turned, and Rachel quickly followed, followed by Conan.

Mr. Augustus was the most disagreeable, obnoxious man Rachel had ever met! And it made her angry that people read his written words that rippled and tumbled and fell like beautiful waterfalls one on top of the other, and thought that because he wrote such wonderful stories he must be a wonderful person. It wasn't fair!

Conan had to trot to keep up with Mrs. Engstrom and Rachel as he followed them across the massive entry hall with its large black and white diamond-shaped tiles, careful not to trip on the edges of the oriental rugs that were scattered over the floor. They went up the sweeping, carved stairway, the sounds of their footsteps lost in the heavy carpeting, and turned left, hurrying down the hall to the Red Room. There was no sigh of Thea.

"Which is Aunt Thea and... Mr. Augustus's room?" Rachel asked Mrs. Engstrom.

"Your aunt's room is the one nearest the head of the stairs," she answered. "Mr. Augustus's is directly across the hall from the one we are in."

Rachel and Conan gathered up their suitcases and backpacks, glad that they hadn't unpacked, and again followed the silent Mrs. Engstrom down the hallway, which held clusters of small, low-watt light bulbs.

Mrs. Engstrom stopped outside the last door and threw it opened then stood to one side. Instead of the room they expected, they saw a narrow, curving flight of stairs. "It's just a short flight," she told them, "but the stairs are steep, and my knees aren't what they used to be. If you don't mind, I won't follow you."

"I don't mind," Rachel said, and smiled at her again. "By the way, my name is Rachel and this is Conan."

Mrs. Engstrom nodded, but she didn't smile in return. What a household! At least Aunt Thea would be glad that they were here.

Conan shifted his suitcase into his other hand and edged into the stairway.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Engstrom murmured. When Rachel shifted around to tell her not to be, she was already down the hall.

The stairs made only a half circled and ended at an equally narrow door that was arched on top. A large brass key protruded from the key hole. Feeling something like Alice in Wonderland and hoping that she wouldn't shrink, Rachel turned the key, pushed opened the door, and entered the tower room.

It was perfectly round, including the part of it that was partitioned off for a tiny bathroom. Inside the room there was only enough space for one twin-size bed, a small chest of drawers, and a chair. They dropped their suit case and backpacks on the bed and Rachel walked to the narrow windows that ringed the outer curve of the room. Beyond, in the distance, laid the sea, but the view was marred by the bars set into the stone.

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Case Closed and its characters is not mine and will never be mine. I don't have any money so don't sue!

**Murder Game**

**Chapter Two**

_Fan fiction By Ronin S. Oath_

They unpacked in a rush, and Rachel flung open the door of their new bedroom. She stopped with her hand on the knob, the cold brass key touching her fingertips, and for a moment Conan stared at her, a peculiar chill shivering around the back of his neck.

'Stop that!' Rachel told herself. 'It's not just a key. It's an ornament... maybe an interior decorator's attempt to try to carry out a theme in this yucky castle. Big deal. Nobody locks doors inside a house.'

But it didn't matter what she told herself. Rachel grasped the key and turned it in the lock, feeling it grind and grate until there cam a deep and final click, then shoved the key into the hip pocket of her jeans and, smiling at Conan, took off down the winding stairs. She had to talk to someone... She needed to hear a human voice.

Now, as they made their way down the staircase to the landing, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet, they took their time, listening for the sound of another human begin, but the house was silent.

For the first time, Conan paid attention to his surroundings. From his vantage point on the landing he could look down on the immense entry hall and get a good view of part of the living room as well. And he was amazed to see that the house was cluttered with museum-like stuff. Besides all the heavily framed paintings on the walls, there were wood carvings or animals and people, all kinds of big and little statues, glazed pottery bowls, china plates, and even a crystal bear which sat on a table near a window. Souvenirs from their travels? Gifts from royalty?

As they turned away from the railing Conan's attention was caught by a pedestal which was tucked into the deep angle of the landing. A burnished gold vase with a rounded lid stood on the pedestal, and he stepped closer to examine it as Rachel kept going. The vase was close to two feet high and about ten inches in diameter, with a wide base. It was graceful, curved and heavily ornamented with designs and markings that looked like scrunched-up little faces.

Conan reached out his hand to touch the lid, but someone spoke close to his ear, startling him. He jumped and the vase wobbled, but he caught it in time.

"Are you looking for something?"

Conan turned to see a tall man dressed in dark pants and a white jacket. He was staring down at him with a bland, noncommittal expression, and Conan easily recognized him as a butler.

"I'm Conan," Conan said, playing the 'little kid' act. "I'm here with Rachel! I was looking at this vase."

"That's not a vase, Mr. Conan," he said. "It's a burial urn."

"Oops." Conan took a step away from it. "Someone's in there?"

"Not to my knowledge," he said. "Considering that the urn dates back quite a few centuries and has undoubtedly traveled though many hands, I would assume that by this time it is empty."

That was not a pleasant thought... Someone thought their ashes would be tucked away in the urn forever, and what happened? Someone carrying the urn tripped? Opened it in a windstorm? Dropped it through an open door? Gross! If his ashes had been lost so carelessly, Conan would be angry enough to come back and haunt the urn.

Conan took another uneasy step away from the urn... After all he if could return to his child body, who's to say that their aren't ghost? "Mr. uh-uh-"

"My name's Walter," he said.

"Walter, that urn isn't haunted, is it?" Conan asked like a scared little child.

"I believe there is some sort of legend to that effect," Walter answered, "but you will have to ask Mr. Augustus about it. I do not believe in ghost." He became more businesslike as he added, "Is there anything else that I can do of you?"

"Yes," Conan said as he shot another uneasy glance around the empty room. Where had Rachel gone? "Can you tell me where Mrs. Augustus is?"

He gave a slight nodded and answered, "I'll take you to the sun-room."

Conan trotted down the stairs after the butler and followed him across the entry hall towards the back of the house.

The sun-room was formal and just as over decorated as the rest of the house, but it had large windows framed by sheer curtains and heavy drapes. The windows overlooked and uneven landscape of grasses, low shrubbery, and wild-twisted oaks which led steeply down to the sea. Thea was seated in a heavy wicker chair, her back to the window and facing Rachel.

As Conan came in the two looked up and Thea placed a delicate china teacup on the silver tray which rested on the low table in front of her. "Hello, Conan dear," she said, "I'm sorry you had to meet Mr. Augustus as abruptly... He can be a little frightening if you aren't use to him."

"It was my fault," Rachel told her. "I couldn't wait. That is, he's so famous, and he's such a great writer, and I know you would have made the introductions easier." Rachel shrugged and added, "Dad keeps telling me that I jump into things without stopping to think."

Thea smiled. "Impulsive is the word."

As Conan sat in a chair, Rachel stretched out her legs and sighed. "Impulsiveness says it all. I guess that's something I'll have to watch out for in my writing."

Thea reached over and patted her knee. "Be patient with yourself. Becoming a published writer takes years and years of practice and experience. Do you think that Mr. Augustus had immediate success?"

Her question caught Rachel by surprise. "Why, yes," she said. "He did, didn't he? His first book won that literary award and boom!"

"His fourth book," Thea corrected. "The first three were rejected many times." Then, suddenly, Thea changed the subject- "I'm sorry, too, that Mr. Augustus moved you to the tower room. I know it's small and unhandy, but since he's assigned the other rooms to his guest-"

"Please don't apologize," Rachel interrupted. "The tower room is a really- uh- interesting room. I like it."

Thea paused; accepting the polite fib, then picked up a teacup in one hand and a sliver teapot in the other and asked, "Would you like a cup of tea, Conan?"

"Huh? Oh... yes, thank-you," Conan answered. He'd rather have a soft drink, but he supposed that tea was ok. Thea handed him a cup and saucer, and Conan noticed that there was another cup and saucer on the tray. "Is Mr. Augustus going to join us?"

Thea took a sip and went on to explain, "The extra cup is for Laura Reed. She arrived this morning, and she'll be joining us at any minute."

"Laura reed?" Rachel nearly dropped her cup. "You don't mean the movie star, do you?"

"The very same," Thea answered.

"Hello, Thea."

Rachel rose to her feet as Laura Reed glided into the room. Maybe she expected flashing lights and little twinkle stars and a mink coat and a sparkly dress... She didn't expect what she saw: a pretty but quite woman who wore no makeup. Her blonde hair hung straight and heavy around her face, and she was dressed in a simple white blouse and navy blue jeans.

Thea introduced them and Laura took both of Rachel's hands and looked into her eyes as she smiled shyly. Shyly? A movie star? She reminded Rachel more of a mouse! "I'm so very pleased to meet you," Laura murmured in a voice all sleepily whispery and throaty.

"Thank-you," Rachel answered. "I'm pleased to meet you, too."

Laura had seated herself, so Rachel quickly sat down too, picked up her cup, and tried to sip as nonchalantly as Laura and Thea... and Conan.

They chatted for a few minutes, mostly about old friends and old parties. Conan didn't know most of the people they were talking about, and was a little more disappointed that things we're turning out to be as exciting as he'd hoped they'd be. His attention began drifting away, but it quickly returned when Laura put down her cup and asked, "Thea, you must tell me... Why am I here?"

Thea's eyes widened. "Why are you here? I don't understand, Laura. You were invited to Mr. Augustus's weekend party, and you came."

Laura shook her head impatiently. "Party? I'd hardly call it that!"

"But Mr. Augustus said..."

Laura Reed sighed and leaned back against the plumply cushioned sofa. "Obviously, _you_ don't know either."

"Know what?" Now it was Thea's turn for impatience. "Laura, please explain what you mean."

"Very well," Laura said. "Mr. Augustus wrote, asking me to be here. No... He didn't ask. He _told_ me to come. He said there would be a game in which I'd be one of the chief players. His exact words were, 'If you don't take part, you'll soon regret it.'" Laura leaned forward, her golden eyes trained on Thea like Piercing spotlights. "I came because I was afraid to ignore his threat."

"You must be mistaken, Laura," Thea said, paling. "Surely, Mr. Augustus would never threaten his friends."

"Friends?" Laura whispered. "I'd hardly say we were friends."

Conan thought about what Laura told them, and he had to agree with her and not with Thea. What Mr. Augustus had written to Laura Reed sounded like a threat to him...

To Be Continued


	3. Chapter Three

**The Murder Game**

**Chapter 3**

**A fanfic by Ronin S. Oath**

The tea party was uncomfortable, with Thea trying to be a gracious hostess, in spite of what Laura had told her, and Laura trying to be a charming guest, even though it was obvious she'd rather be anywhere else. To ease the situation they both turned to Rachel.

"You've lucky to lead a normal life," Laura said, and patted Rachel's hand. This time her smile was wistful, and her words dragged. "You'll never know what it's like to..."

"To be rich and famous?" offered Conan helpfully.

"To be used," she corrected. "To want to be really loved- not as a star, but as a child, hungry for affection."

Even though it was midafternoon, the room gradually became darker, and finally a maid in uniform came in, turned on some lights, and began picking up the empty cups. She had a round, cheerful face, and looked as if she might be only a few years older than Rachel.

Thea went to the window. "It looks as though it's going to pour," she said. "Such odd weather for August."

The maid stopped, tray in hand, and said, "Mrs. Augustus, the radio news said there's going to be a storm. It's part of a hurricane moving north from Mexico."

As she spoke she looked at Thea with a kind of pity and tenderness. It was obvious that she was fond of Thea, but Conan didn't understand why she should pity her.

"Thank-you, Lucy," Thea said. "I didn't listen to the radio today. I wasn't aware of a possible storm."

'_Radio? What about television?'_ It dawned on Rachel that she hadn't seen a single TV set in this house. '_Two weeks without television?' _It was hard to imagine.

Thea sat down again and announced, "The launch just pulled up to the dock, which means the other guests have arrived. We'll all be snug and cozy before the storm breaks."

'_Snug and cozy in this creepy old castle?'_ Conan didn't believe it.

Laura sat up stiffly and asked in her kind of choking, breathy way, "Who are the other guests?"

"Augustus told me that Buck Thompson is one of them," Thea said.

Conan eagerly volunteered, "You know who Buck Thompson is, don't you? He used to be a pro quarterback, only now he's a sportscaster on one of the networks."

Rachel smiled at Conan. _'He's such a sweet kid, but he should learn not to interrupt people.'_

Thea smiled and continued, "And Julia Bryant will be here."

"Julia Bryant?!?" Rachel blurted out.

Thea raised one eyebrow and said, "I take it that you're familiar with Julia's books, although I'm a little surprised that you'd like that type of novel."

"I really don't," Rachel answered, and blushed as hotly as one of Julia's female characters. "I mean, this girl at school was talking about one of them, and she read a couple of scenes to us, and they were kind of wild, but I read some of the rest of the book, and it was boring."

Laura nodded vigorously. "You're right. Julia's novels are sleaze. They're drivel. And the last one on television was badly cast. I was up for the part, but then someone got the idea of casting this twenty-two year-old with absolutely no talent..."

"More tea?" Thea asked, and held the teapot toward Laura as she said, "I'm sure you know that when Julia's novels began making the best-sellers list she set up a foundation to help support budding novelist... All in the name of an old friend."

"What a neat idea," Rachel said, and could just see herself doing something like that in Jimmy's name. _'Or maybe I'd put both our names on it.' _"I bet that made her friend happy."

"Thea should have said _in memory of _her friend," Laura told her. "Julia's friend wanted to be a writer and, as I heard it, wrote dozens of manuscripts, but never had enough courage to send them to a publisher."

"What happened to her friend?"

Laura sighed. "Apparently she destroyed all her manuscripts, and then jumped out of a twelfth-floor window."

"How awful!" Rachel exclaimed.

"There's no point in going into any of the arts unless you have a dedication and determination to achieve," Laura began, and then suddenly changed direction as a thought struck her. "Will Julia's husband be here too? You know Jake, don't you? The poor boy never was able to make it as an actor, even though he's a very attractive man."

"Augustus didn't invite him," Thea said, and looked embarrassed as she tried to explain. "He didn't invite Senator Maggio's wife either. That's United States Senator Arthur Maggio of Nevada."

"Has anyone else been invited?" Laura asked.

"One more guest," Thea answered. "Alex Chambers."

"Who's that?" asked Conan in the childish voice he could get, which wasn't too hard.

"Alex Chambers is a famous dress designer. His clothes were high-class expensive, and in tons of magazine ads," Thea explained.

There was silence for a moment, until Laura murmured, "I wonder if each of your other guests received the same kind of threat I did..."

"Oh, Laura, now really," Thea began, but Laura turned the full wattage of her green-gold eyes on Thea and said, "We're supposed to be players in a game. I just wonder what the game is going to be."

Thea informed Rachel and Conan that they would dress for dinner, so they went up to their room and changed- Rachel put on a dress and a long string of Venetian glass beads that one of her friends had given her for her last birthday; while Conan put on his tuxedo.

Conan wondered why anyone who chose to live on an island would want to dress up and live in a castle with maids and butlers, when it made a lot more sense to wear shorts and go barefoot and live in an open, comfortable house where you could clean up by just sweeping the sand out of the front door every morning.

They were all supposed to gather downstairs for cocktails at seven, and Rachel wasn't about to go down early all by herself... and Conan. So she stood by the window and watched a swarm of dark clouds battle the sun, which struck out with shards of red and gold before it was smothered and dragged towards the sea.

The gloom was so intense that Rachel turned on the bedside lamp. She sat on the edge of the bed, where she could keep one eye on the clock, and pulled her journal and pen from the top drawer of the chest. The writers' magazines she had read suggested that writers and would-be writers keep journals and write something in them every day. She had no problem with that because she loved to write.

She wrote what she thought about the sun, but that didn't lead anywhere, so she decided to write a description of the room she and Conan shared. Only she went even further and added some cobwebs and dust and the sound of something creeping up the stairs.

At the loud knock on their bedroom door she screeched, threw her journal into the air, and jumped to her feet. Her journal landed on Conan head as he turned to see what was the matter with her...

"Are you two all right? A muffled voiced asked.

Rachel staggered to the door, turned the key and opened it. "We're fine, thank you," she told Walter. There was no way she was going to explain. He'd think she was pretty weird.

Walter looked at her as though he though she was pretty weird anyway and said, "The guests have gathered in the front parlor. Your aunt would be pleased to have you join them."

Rachel had been so interested in what she'd been writing that she'd forgotten to watch the clock. "Okay," she said. "Thanks." She watched Walter descend the stairs before she locked the door. She hefted the big brass key in her hand, trying to decide what to do with it... Her dress didn't have a handy pocket to hold it.

Inspiration struck, and she opened the clasp on the string of beads, ran the string through the large key hole in the middle of the key, and fastened the clasp at the back of her neck. At least she'd have their key with her. She wasn't going to leave it in the door.

The up stairs hallway was dim and deserted, except for the two of them, and they hurried along, nearly running, because they had the awful feeling that someone- or something- was watching them. They practically galloped down the stairs, pausing only for a few seconds on the landing for Conan to glance at the burial urn, which, even in the shadows, seemed to glow.

"Come on, Conan," Rachel said, before grabbing Conan's hand.

They ran down the rest of the stairs and joined the lights and noise in the front parlor.

The room was festive with dozens of glowing candles and bowls of bright summer flowers. Conan and Rachel began to relax and enjoy themselves, especially after Thea- comfortable soft and gray in a cashmere knit dress the same shade as her hair- took them by the hand and introduced them to Senator Maggio, Alex Chambers, Buck Thompson, and Julia Bryant. They were in famous company!

Each of the guests smiled brilliantly in their direction and told them they were quite pleased to meet them. Julia Bryant did remark on Rachel's necklace. "How exciting and unusual! That darling antique key looks so authentic and somehow familiar. Wherever did you find it? Neiman's?"

"No, in my door," Rachel said, "and I don't really think it's an antique, because doesn't something have to be one hundred years old before it's called an antique?" Trying to make polite conversation, Rachel continued. "One of my mother's friends has an antiques store, and she finds some of the most unbelievable things in..."

Rachel stopped talking because they hadn't been listening, not even Conan or Thea, and had gone back to their conversations.

Conan wondered away from the groups and stood alone, watching them. People-watching is good practice for anyone who is a detective.

Buck Thompson's face was familiar. It would be to anyone who watched a pro football game on television. He was huge and beefy, his face tinged dark red like a medium rare steak. His hair was brown, thick, and unruly. It was Buck's own hair, not a toupee, so he'd have to tell 'Detective' Richard Moore his guess was wrong. Buck's movements were overlarge and expansive. As he spoke with Senator Maggio, Buck just missed knocking a flower arrangement off a nearby table.

Conan had seen Senator Maggio's face in the newspapers. Because he was round and bald he never though he looked like a senator ought to look- especially one who's being considered as a possible presidential candidate. But he was well groomed. He wore a dark blue suit made out of some silky fabric, and he carried his head high. Conan wondered if he'd ever had a P.E. teacher like Mr. Trimble in ninth grade, who kept saying, "For good posture, pretend there's a string at the top of your head, boys, and it's pulling, pulling, pulling you upward."

A laugh tinkled like broken glass, and Conan turned towards the sound. Laura, in a long, plain gown of deep blue silk, her hair brushed out in a golden glow, looked softer, younger, and prettier in the candlelight. Again she laughed, but the brittle sound told him that she was every bit as wary and nervous as she had been earlier.

Julia had dressed like a twenty-year-old model in green satin, with a skirt hem high above her knees and a low-scooped neckline. Her hair was dyed red, and she wore layers of makeup. It didn't help Julia Bryant to try to look young. She had to be at least fifty. "No. What you heard was wrong. I'm just an old-fashioned girl," she was saying. "I'm not the least bit mechanical-minded and hate having to use computers."

Alex Chambers smiled from one woman to the other. "You should try computerizing designs," he said. He was tall and slender, with wisps of dark hair and large brown eyes which blinked a lot when he wasn't squinting. Conan bet he wore glasses when no one was around. He had on tight slacks with a twisted rope holding them up, instead of a belt, and a silk shirt the color of whipped cream. The shirt was buttoned only halfway up, but the opening was filled with a knotted, bright, multicolored scarf.

People-watching was interesting for only so long. Conan wandered over to a large round table in a nearby corner, which was cluttered with dozens of photographs. In each of them Mr. Augustus- mostly young or middle-aged- was buddy-buddy with someone who looked important and official. Conan recognized Prince Rainier of Monaco and the Shah of Iran, but the others were unfamiliar.

As Conan picked up an ornate silver frame, Mrs. Engstrom appeared beside him. She carried a small tray of canapés, but she seemed more interested in the photo in Conan's hand. "That's Mr. Augustus with the late King George the Sixth of England," she said. With her free hand she pointed to one photo after another. "That's King Juan Carlos of Spain, the late king Gustav Adolph of Sweden, Kind Fahd of Saudi Arabia, the late king Frederick the Ninth of Demark..."

"They're all royalty?" Conan asked.

"All of them," she said. "In fact, Mr. Augustus calls this 'the Kings' Corner'." Mrs. Engstrom's mouth had a strange twist to it, as though she thought this was putting things on a little too much.

As Mrs. Engstrom moved on to pass the canapés to the other guests, Lucy came into the room with a tray of assorted drinks and handed him a glass of hot coco.

"Thanks," Conan said. Eager for someone to talk to, he asked, "Where's Mr. Augustus?"

"He'll be along," she said quietly, and glanced back at the open doorway. "He likes to come in after everybody else has been standing around waiting for him."

Conan wanted to ask more questions about Mr. Augustus, but Lucy left, delivering drinks to the other guests. Walter was busy too, so he was trying to decide whether to stand by himself, looking stupid, or stand with one of the other groups, looking stupid, when Mr. Augustus entered the parlor. Conversations stopped in midsentence as everyone turned towards him. In the silence a gust of wind suddenly rattled the windows, and Conan wasn't the only one who jumped.

Augustus looked like a character in an old movie. He was casually dressed in a dark red velvet jacket with a belt that tied around his pudgy middle. Augustus also wore dark slacks and loafers without socks, and smiled charmingly at his guests. "How delighted I am that all of you could come," he said, and made a little bow. "Welcome to our humble home."

Laura gave a sigh, as though she'd begun breathing again, and Senator Maggio cleared his throat. Julia was the first to come forward. She clutched Augustus's shoulders and blew smacky kisses near both ears.

"You darling man, I've been so excited. What _is_ this wonderful imaginative game you've thought up for us?"

Conan saw Buck and the senator glance knowingly at each other, so that answered one question. Each of these guests had received the same kind of invitation. _Threat_, Laura had called it.

Augustus chuckled and draped an arm around Julia's shoulders. "All will be explained when the game commences," he said, and went through the room greeting the other guests with the warmth of a gracious host.

Augustus even had a smile for Rachel, which made her instantly hopeful. When the weekend was over and his guests had left, he'd offer to read Rachel's stories and critique them. She _knew _he would.

But there was something even more pressing that Conan wanted to ask him. "Tell me about the ghost," he said.

Augustus stepped back, and his eyes bugged out, but he didn't answer, so Conan said, "You know, the ghost in the haunted burial urn. Isn't there some kind of legend?"

Augustus's eyes narrowed. He hunched forward and grabbed Conan's shoulders as he growled in his right ear, "There's not only a legend, and it also has a curse with it. It's as simple as this: Stay away from that urn or there will be nothing left of you."

"That's not a very nice legend," Conan mumbled, and squirmed out of his grip.

"It's not a very nice ghost," he snapped, and hobbled over to talk to the senator.

The dinner was interesting, since Conan and Rachel was never quite sure what had been served. There were purple and yellow crunchy things in the salad and the thin sliced of meat rested in some kind of creamy sauce with a red design drizzled around the edges. There were rows of forks at the left and one above the plate, but Conan and Rachel stopped trying to figure out the silverware and menu so that they could listen to the celebrities and what they had to say.

The earlier mood of caution and suspicion had faded, and everyone talked and laughed a lot. Senator Maggio and Buck, who sat across the table from each other, compared noted about bloopers they'd made in high school football, and somehow the senator worked the conversation around to grandchildren and brought out some pictures to two fluffy-dressed little toddlers. He beamed when he talked about the little girls, but since Thea and Rachel seemed to be the only ones interested in them, his grandfatherly bragging didn't have much of a chance.

Julia, who was seated next to the senator, sparkled as she discussed book tours and confessed to sneaking under a fence to get away from a pair of excited fans. Laura, on Conan's right, tried to top Julia's stories by telling them about some of her harrowing experiences on movie sets.

It was fascinating to see some of the celebrity glow peel away like banana skins, giving a glimpse of real people inside.

Julia, the author, was like an actress playing the role of one of her sophisticated fictional heroines, and yet at times she looked unsure of herself, and Conan saw her watch the others questioningly, as though she wasn't quite sure they were taking her seriously. Buck, who sat at Rachel's left, was just as nervous- maybe even more ill at ease. He grabbed a spoon to finish off the sauce, then dropped it and turned red when he saw Conan watching him.

Senator Maggio, no longer a dotting grandfather, had become controlled and polished again; and Alex never dropped his smug conceit. Both of them were safe inside their banana skins, and Conan wondered what it would take to make them come out...

It had begun to rain, not a soft rain or even a steadily tapping rain. It came in bursts with the wind, whipping against the window like small stones.

They just polished off a tart filled with fresh mixed berries and soft vanilla custard, when Augustus's voice boomed out. "Please give me your attention, my friends. I have an important announcement to make."

**To be continued...**


	4. Chapter Four

**Murder Game**

**Chapter Four**

_Fanfiction by Ronin S. Oath_

Buck's water goblet went over, and water sloshed on the table as he grabbed for it. Julia giggled nervously, and Laura sucked in her breath. They all waited quietly as Augustus resettled himself in his chair before he continued.

"As you all are aware of," Augustus continued, "I am a novelist. I have never been interested in writing nonfiction." He paused and smiled. "Until a little over a year ago."

As they waited, none of them knowing what they were supposed to say, Augustus chuckled. "For the past thirty years," he told them, "I have been thoroughly involved in high society's self-centeredness and hypocrisy. It suited my purposes, and occasionally it provided characters and ideas for my stories."

"Oh, my, I knew it. Prince Rainier," Laura murmured. "Was he the basis for-"

Augustus leaned forward with a scowl. "I have not finished speaking," he thundered, and Laura cringed against the back of her chair.

Augustus was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again it was with a smile. "My current manuscript is not another novel. It is a book in which I intend to make public certain shocking behind-the-scenes behavior of a great many very important people."

Julia stiffened, and it was obvious that she couldn't keep silent, no matter how offended Augustus might be. "Are you telling us that we're included?" she asked.

Augustus grinned nastily. "Yes and no," he said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Buck demanded.

"It means that while doing background research and interviews, in an attempt to supplement my notes and refresh my memory, I stumbled upon a well-hidden secret in the past life of each one of you."

"Ridiculous!" Senator Maggio snapped.

"Oh is it?" asked Augustus, his eyes gleaming. "If these secrets are made known, they'll be damaging enough to ruin your reputations, aside from other complications that might result."

"This is absurd," Alex interjected, but Augustus dismissed him with a wave of his hand and went on.

"Each of you committed one very stupid mistake in your past, yet the mistakes were never made public. Was this because you were actually smart enough to cover them, or because you were incredibly lucky?"

"Augustus, I protest!" Thea said. "You're embarrassing our guest, and-"

"Sit down, Thea," Augustus ordered, and she did.

"You are all highly successful in your careers," he continued, "and normally that takes a certain amount of intelligence. So what is the truth? Are you stupid, or are you not? I'm going to find out. During the weekend we're going to play a game, and you'll be given clues to solve. The clues will lead to a significant treasure- a treasure that in itself will be self-explanatory. If you can solve the clues, then you'll prove to me that your stupid mistakes can remain secret, and I'll remove every trace of your stories from my manuscript. For those who can't solve the clues, the world will soon learn the shocking facts from your past."

"This manuscript you're threatening us with- have you written it or are you simply threatening to write it?" Alex demanded.

"Oh, I've completed it," Augustus answered. "It's ready for its final revision before I send it to my agent, who will proceed to read it immediately and send it on to my publisher. In its current form, your mistakes are detailed."

"Where is this manuscript?" Buck asked. He scowled from under his heavy eyebrows, and his anger was so strong that for a moment Rachel was afraid.

But Augustus wasn't. He leaned back and smiled. "Violence won't accomplish what you want, my dear Mr. Thompson. Clear and sharp thinking will."

Buck hunched over in his chair and grumbled, "I don't know what you've got in mind, but you won't get away with it, Augustus."

Suddenly Senator Maggio shoved back his chair and got to his feet. Tiny lines at the corners of his eyes twitched, and his lips were so tightly pressed together, they were pale. "I'm leaving," he said. "Your weekend game is simply an exercise in self-aggrandizement, Augustus, and I want no part in it. Will you please make arrangements for your launch to take me to the mainland?"

"I'm leaving too!" Julia announced, and jumped to her feet.

Everyone got up except Augustus, and even though they were all looking down at him, he still seemed to be the most powerful figure in the room.

"The launch was taken to the mainland and docked there for greater safety during the storm," he said. "I hadn't counted on any of you being foolish enough to refuse to play the game."

"There's a smaller boat," Buck said. "Is that gone too?"

"No," Augustus said, "but you'd have to be very desperate and somewhat mad to take a boat like that in the choppy seas."

The senator must have faced tough opponents before, because he remained calm. "Then I'll remain in my room until the launch is able to return."

He began to turn away from the table, Julia tentatively following him, but Augustus warned, "Just remember, if you leave this room you'll lose your opportunity to have your damaging secret removed from the manuscript. I prefer that you all return to your seats so the game may begin."

"I don't have any damaging secrets," Julia murmured, but she slipped back into her chair.

After a brief moment of hesitation the others followed her lead, even Senator Maggio.

Mrs. Engstrom brought in a tray of tiny macaroons and bonbons and quietly poured demitasse cups of coffee, passing them to the guests, who were all so intent on Augustus, they ignored her.

Thea, who sat at the far end of the table, seemed paler that usual and close to tears. Most of the guests looked down at their hands or away at the windows, not wanting to meet another pair of eyes, but Alex shrugged, as if he were only going along with the gag as a good sport, and asked Augustus, "You said the clues would lead to some kind of treasure. Exactly what is this treasure we'll be looking for?"

"You'll know it when you find it, and you'll find it through the clues," Augustus said, and his grin became broader.

"Aren't you going to help us?" Laura whispered.

"Of course," he answered. He reached into a deep pocket in his velvet jacket and brought out six sealed envelopes on which names had been printed in bright blue ink. He read out the names, and then passed the envelopes down each side of the table to the correct recipient. Even Thea got one.

"You might call this a warm-up to the game," he said. "Inside each envelope you'll find a personal clue. You can test your skills be seeing what you can learn from what you've just been given."

Julia didn't hesitate. She ripped open one end of the envelope and tugged out the contents. "This is a clue?" she asked. "It's nothing but part of an airline schedule, New York to Buffalo."

"And I've been given a train schedule," Senator Maggio complained.

Alex held up an enlarged section of what seemed to be a detailed map and said with a touch of sarcasm, "Maybe Augustus is suggesting the three of us plan a trip together."

"In Vietnam?" Rachel murmured. She'd been able to read a few of the names on the map.

Alex did a double-take, stared at the map a second, then folded it and dropped it into his shirt pocket. He didn't answer Rachel's question. He wouldn't even meet her eyes.

"Study your clues," Augustus said, and hunched over, chuckling to himself like an evil gnome.

Conan looked over the shoulders on each side of him. Laura was holding a list of football games and scores, while Buck stared at a list of names and telephone numbers. One was circled: Peeples, Willie.

Laura said, "You made a mistake, Augustus. These football scores must be for Buck. They don't mean anything to me."

But Julia suddenly gasped as she stared at her clue, and the senator, his face darkening, angrily folded his paper into a hard, tight square, and stuffed it into his pocket.

Thea suddenly spoke up. "Augustus, I don't want to be a part of this game."

He nodded towards her, giving a kind of bow, but he said, "Oh, yes you do, Thea."

"How could you?" she whispered. Tears came to her eyes, and her fingers trembled as she folded what looked like a travel brochure and tucked it back into the envelope.

"None of this makes any sense to me," Laura said.

"Would you like me to help you?" Conan asked. "I'm really good at clues and codes."

Laura smiled. "Oh thank-you. If you can figure this out, I'll be eternally grateful."

"Figure it out yourself, Laura!" Augustus snapped. "That's the point of this experiment- to see if you're smart enough to save your own skins!"

"I'm sorry," Rachel mumbled. "Conan was just trying to help."

"You want a clue?" he went on, looking at Conan. "All right... I'll give you a clue. In fact, yours may make more sense than all the rest of them." He pulled a scrap of paper out his pocket and bent over it, hiding it as if he were taking a test, wiggling the fingers on his left hand, while with his right hand he wrote. When he'd finished writing, he folded it over and gave it to Laura, who passed it to Conan.

When Conan smoothed the paper out flat he saw a series of numbers and recognized a simple letter-number code. One stands for A, two for B, and so on..."

7-5-20 12-15-19-20

Conan crumpled the paper into a wad and glared at Augustus.

The others had been watching, but Laura had been leaning over Conan's shoulder. "Ohhh," she said. "it was written in code, and he figured it out so fast! He _is_ good!"

"Perhaps I underestimated you," Augustus said to him. Augustus propped his hands on the edge of the table, elbows protruding like chicken wings, and shouted, "It's late. I'd suggest you all retire to your rooms and meditate on the meanings you've found in your clues."

"What meanings?" Laura asked in a pitiful voice, but Augustus ignored her.

"There will be another set of clues for you in the morning," he said.

Thunder slammed and rolled around the house.

"The storm may interfere with your sleep, but you won't have to worry about any loss of electricity," Augustus said. "We have our own generator."

Everyone began leaving the dinning room. Conan and Rachel walked over to Thea.

"I can help you," Rachel whispered, "no matter what Augustus says."

But Thea shook her head and answered, "Thank-you. You're a dear girl, but I've already deciphered my clue. Better be off to bed. Breakfast will be served anytime after seven."

Rachel and Conan passed Mrs. Engstrom at the dining room door. She stood as quietly and motionless as a mummy- her lips held in a tight, angry line and her eyes glittering in the dim light- so Rachel started when she saw her.

"Good night, Miss Moore. Good night, Conan."

"Good night, Mrs. Engstrom." Rachel and Conan repeated.

They hurried up to their tower room, eagerly turning on the light and locking the door behind them. The storm was really noisy up here, but in a way they kind of liked the whoosh and slams of the wind and rain. It slapped the walls and rattled the windows in a sort of rhythm, like waves crashing on rocks, while lightning slashed the blackness with blue-white explosions.

Conan opened the crumpled wad of paper he was still holding. He hadn't quickly deciphered it, as Laura had thought. He'd been too angry about the little-kid code. So now he took enough time to work out which letter went with which number and came up with the message: _GET LOST._

**To Be Continued...**


	5. Chapter Five

**Murder Game**

**Chapter 5**

**By Ronin S. Oath**

The storm picked up in intensity, and the noise of the wind, rain and thunder was incredible! A heavy blast of wind slammed against the windows just as the doorknob was turned... As the key seemed to rattle in the lock, Rachel cried out!

But they key jiggled again just as lightning brightened the dark room. Rachel saw it. Just for an instant her heart stopped, and a cold chill ran through her body.

She climbed out of bed, being careful as she ran barefoot to the door not to step on or trip over Conan, in time to catch the key as it tumbled from the lock.

Someone had poked it out of the door!

As fast and quietly as she could, Rachel shoved it back into the keyhole. Her key hit against something hard, and she thought she heard someone on the other side of the door grunt in surprise.

Rachel waited for the person to try to dislodge the key again, but it didn't happen.

Rachel slid out her key and bent down to peer through the empty keyhole. Lightning lit up the sky, and in that sudden bright flash, Rachel saw the gleam of an eye looking back at her!

She screamed... She couldn't help it...

Rachel heard footsteps running away down the stairs and knew that whoever had came to their room had gone. But what was the person after? They didn't have anything of value...

Clutching the key tightly, Rachel climbed back into bed. She knew she wouldn't sleep. She'd probably never sleep as long as she was in this house!

But at some point, Rachel opened her eyes and found that the room had grown lighter, and Conan stood over her with a childish smile on his face. Rachel looked to the bedside clock and discovered that it was already eight o'clock in the morning!

After a quick shower and getting dressed, Conan and Rachel hurried downstairs through those dim, gloomy halls, moving even faster than before.

They reached the dining room, which was bright with the light from the huge crystal chandelier. The table had been reset, and on the sideboard there was an array of covered warming dishes, bowls of strawberries and melon, platters of rolls and muffins, and small boxes of cereal. Conan and Rachel helped themselves to a bit of everything and sat down to eat.

"Good morning," Mrs. Engstrom said as she entered the room, then walked to the nearest warming dish and peeked inside as though to reassure herself that they hadn't taken all the eggs. "Please tell me if there is anything that you need or if there is anything I can do for you. I want your stay here to be as comfortable as possible. Your aunt told me to how much she was looking forward to your visit."

"But not everyone wants us here," Rachel replied.

"Your aunt does and she's lonely," Mrs. Engstrom told her.

Rachel nodded. "I'd be lonely too, if I had to live in this castle, away from all my friends and all that."

"Mr. Augustus always comes here to write," she said. "He demands complete quiet. When he's working on a book, no one- not even Mrs. Augustus- is allowed in his office."

"But what does Aunt Thea do to keep busy while they're living here?" Rachel asked, not meaning to pry.

Mrs. Engstrom's lips tightened again, and she said, "Mr. Augustus has never wanted to hire a secretary, so Mrs. Augustus has always done the job. She answers Mr. Augustus's mail... You wouldn't believe how much mail he gets! There's fan mail, and invitations to speak to various groups, and request for donations... All sorts of things! Mrs. Augustus takes all his phone calls, and watches out that he's not disturbed while he's working or resting..."

"What does she do for fun?" Conan asked as he listened to all the work Rachel's aunt had to do. "I saw a game board in Mr. Augustus's office..."

Mrs. Engstrom smiled at Conan like a mother would a child. "Mrs. Augustus and I usually play..." Mrs. Engstrom turned and moved towards the door, then left quietly.

Laura Reed staggered into the dining room and flopped into a chair. "Coffee," she groaned. "There must be coffee around here..."

Rachel got up and brought her a cup of coffee. Laura sipped at it for a few minutes, and apparently it did something for her, because she began to wake up. She sat a little straighter, took a deep breath, and looked to each side, twisting to peer behind her.

"Do you want something else?" Rachel asked. "Breakfast is over there."

"I'm not hungry," she whispered, and leaned forward, shoving a folded paper into Conan's hands. "I just wanted to make sure that Augustus wasn't skulking around someplace... Honestly! The nerve of that man! He reminds me of the director of my last picture... Terrible personalities, the both of them."

Conan opened the paper and saw that it was the list of football scores.

"You offered to help me," Laura said. "So help. Okay?"

Conan scanned the list. "Have you tried to work it out yourself?"

Laura sighed. "Work what out? I didn't even read it. I don't know anything about football scores or what they mean."

"I don't know all the teams myself," Conan admitted. "I'll read the list out to you. If anything seems familiar to you, just speak up. One of these numbers might be a locker number, or part of an old address, or something like that..." After Laura nodded, Conan began to read: "Final Scores: Rams 14, Buffalo Bills 6; Falcons 13, Red Skins 21; Giants 6, Forty-Niners 13; Emerald Bay 1, Stars 0."

There were a lot listed, but Conan didn't read them, because Laura let out a high-pitched shriek, sounding like a mouse being chased by a cat. She clapped her hands to her cheeks, gasped as though she were hyperventilating, and stared at Conan in terror.

"What happened?" Rachel asked.

"Nothing!" Laura wheezed, and snatched the paper out of Conan's hands.

"Something I read must have-"

"Forget about it!" Laura jumped to her feet and ran out of the room.

By the time Conan and Rachel finished breakfast, Alex and Julia had come downstairs. Alex had dark bags under his eyes, and Julia looked terrible. The heavy makeup she wore hadn't helped a bit!

Conan pushed back his chair and left the dining room.

In the entry hall, Thea met him with a smile. "I've got fresh orange juice and cinnamon rolls in the sunroom," she said. "Why don't you settle in with me and we'll nibble on rolls and enjoys the storm?" She put an arm around Conan's shoulders.

When they settled into comfortable chairs in the sunroom, Conan asked Thea some of the same questions he and Rachel asked Mrs. Engstrom. Thea was an intelligent, active woman, and he couldn't imagine that she'd be happy hidden away here, trying to placate her husband. She was here either because she was still much in love with Augustus, or because she was afraid of him...

Conan began to wonder if Augustus might have some hold over Thea. He'd included Thea in the game. Did that mean she had a secret in her past life? One too awful to be made public? But Thea was Augustus's wife! What kind of monster would terrify his own wife?

Laura came into the room and sat on one of the wicker couches. She stretched out and sighed dramatically before she said, "Whatever Augustus plans to do, I wish he'd get it over with. This waiting is horrible! I tried to call my agent, but the phone is out because of the storm."

Alex, still carrying his coffee cup, wandered in, stared out the window for a moment, then perched next to Laura. "I hate rain," he said. "It makes everything look dreary."

A second later, Rachel walked into the room, and sat by Conan with a smile on her face.

"I'm sorry about the storm," Thea said. "I'm sure none of slept well."

"As a matter of fact, I did," Alex said. He drained the cup and put it on a nearby table. "I even slept quite late this morning."

"Probably because you were up so late last night," Laura said.

He shot her a glance from the corners of his eyes. "I wasn't up late. We all went upstairs together, as I remember."

Laura shook her head. "Your room is next to mine... I heard you moving around and your door opening and closing. I looked at my beside clock, and it was nearly midnight."

"I don't know what you heard, but it wasn't me," Alex insisted.

"It couldn't have been anyone else!"

"Laura dear," he said, "you're beginning to sound like a busybody."

Laura apparently decided not to continue the argument, but she pressed her lips together in a pout and glared at Alex before she said, "You're such an inspiring person, Alex. It's wonderful how you managed to achieve so much when you had the terrible handicap of a dysfunctional childhood... Even changing your name! Of course, I suppose that didn't bother you, since you never knew your parents and Alex Chambers has so much more marketing appeal than- What was it again?"

Thea reached over and patted Alex's arm. "No one's childhood is perfect," she said. "If you had a difficult childhood, then I'm sure it helped you to be even more sympathetic and understanding of others."

Alex glanced sharply at Thea, mumbled "Thank-you," then stared down at his boots as if he had never seen them before...

Julia wondered into the sun-room, complaining, "So here is where everyone is gathering. No one told me!" Julia dragged a small wooden chair from its place by the wall, in order to sit close to the group. "Arthur is furious," she announced. "He tried to get through to his Washington office, but the phone is dead..."

"We often lose our phone service during bad weather," Thea apologized.

Tracy, who had just arrived with some hot coco, said, "Mrs. Augustus, the weather reporter on the radio said he's not counting on good weather until Monday or Tuesday."

"Thank-you, Tracy. If you see Senator Maggio, will you please ask him to join us?"

"Yes, ma'am," Tracy said, but as she left the room the senator and Buck passed her.

"We heard voices," Buck said, and he pulled up another of the small chairs that stood against the wall. Senator Maggio did the same, squeezing his chair into the circle.

Buck was his unruly, beefy self, but Senator Maggio probably looked worse than anyone else in the room. His face sagged, and his eyes were sunken behind such dark circles, he looked as though someone had punched him.

Thea smiled gently. "Didn't the hot milk help you sleep?"

"Not a bit," Senator Maggio replied, and then quickly added, "but you were kind to prepare it for me."

Thea nodded. "It's fortunate that we were both restless at the same time."

"So you were down stairs too," Laura said. She smiled and tossed a sharp glance in Alex's direction. "Thea, did you, by any chance, run into Alex?"

Thea shook her head.

Julia let out a long, aggrieved sigh. "That's neither here nor there," she said. "We are all waiting for Augustus to make his next move. Where is he?"

"He is usually down by this time," Thea said, and looked at her watch. She pressed a little button by her chair, and in less than a minute Walter appeared. "Will you please see what's keeping Mr. Augustus?" she asked, and with a nod Walter left.

The senator pointedly looked at his watch and grunted with exasperation, while Buck said, "Take it easy, Arthur. We aren't going anywhere."

"I'd like to get this so-called game over with," Senator Maggio replied.

Alex began to answer him, but there was a scream from the hall! Everyone was staring towards the open doorway when Mrs. Engstrom, Tracy, and Walter appeared. Mrs. Engstrom was pale and she fought to regain her balance as a tearful Tracy clung to her shoulder. "Mrs. Augustus," Mrs. Engstrom said, but her voice wobbled and she couldn't continue.

Walter made an effort to collect himself. He stood a little taller, took a deep breath, and said, "Mrs. Augustus, Tracy discovered that Mr. Augustus's bed had not been slept in, so I went to his office to see if he spent the night there on the couch..." He gulped before he continued. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Augustus. Mr. Augustus is dead."

Thea gasped and half rose to her feet when Tracy shrieked, "He's not just dead! There's blood on his head, and there's blood splattered on his desk! Mr. Augustus was murdered!"

**To Be Continued...**


	6. Chapter Six

**Murder Game**

**Chapter Six**

**By Ronin S. Oath**

Tracy had been right about the blood. There was a lot of it. Everyone rushed to the door of Mr. Augustus's office and tried to push and elbow their way inside.

Mr. Augustus was seated in his chair, his head on the desk next to the computer keyboard. One bent arm covered his face.

Rachel suddenly felt sick. For a moment it was hard to breathe, and she was shaking. Rachel held on to the door frame for support and took a couple of long, shuddering breaths to steady herself. The horrible feeling gradually slid away.

Laura moaned softly and gracefully sank to the floor, sitting with her back against the wall, her hands clasped in her lap while silent tears spilled from her closed eyelids.

Alex gagged, turned white, and ran from the room, shoving Buck aside with more strength than anyone could have guessed he had.

"Ouch!" muttered Buck as he staggered into the pointed drawer of a nearby file cabinet.

Thea was standing just outside the door, Mrs. Engstrom's arms around her.

"She'll be all right," Mrs. Engstrom said as her glance met Rachel.

Senator Maggio ordered everyone, "Stay away from the crime scene. There's evidence here that should be protected."

"If you're looking for the murder weapon, it's probably that fireplace thing," Julia said, and pointed at the sharpened brass poker that lay on the floor.

There were dark stains near the point, so she might have been right; but something else had caught Conan's attention. The mesh screen across the fireplace that would normally have been closed was opened, and lying among the ashes were some curled metal and plastic pieces.

"Look at the fireplace," Conan told the others. "Someone has burned some computer disks."

Buck fell to his knees before the fireplace and groped among the ashes, jerking out the disk and making a terrible mess. "There are scraps of paper too," Buck said. "Looks like typing paper."

He got to his feet, one hand holding the disk and a couple of scorched typing papers- one with the page number 255 printed on it- while he tried to wipe the ashes from his other hand on the seat of his jeans.

"Do you think those are the backup disk containing the manuscript Augustus was telling us about?" Julia asked.

"I hope so," Laura answered.

"Turn on the computer," Julia said. "There must be a file…"

Senator Maggio flipped the Off switch and said, "I've already tried it. There's no file. Everything has been wiped out."

"If someone destroyed the file, the manuscript, and the disk, he's put an end to the threat," Alex said from behind Rachel. Apparently he made a quick recovery.

Julia's mouth twisted as she added, "And put an end to Augustus as well."

A long moment of silence followed as they realized that one person in the room was a murderer.

"The murderer has to be someone who's familiar with computers," Conan said, "someone who'd know how to delete the file."

Julia was the first to respond. "I don't use a computer. I write longhand and Jak types up the finished manuscript for me."

"I don't use a computer," the senator added.

"Me either," Buck answered.

Alex shook his head.

"I've never had a reason even to touch one of those things," Laura complained.

Conan glanced from Julia to Alex to Senator Maggio. No matter what they'd just said, a few minutes ago each of them had proved that they knew enough about computers to understand files and disks.

"We must notify the police," Senator Maggio said.

"We can't," Rachel told them. "The phone lines are still out."

This called for another moment of silence.

Finally, Julia said, "Let's face some plain facts and look at the positive side. Whatever Augustus had in mind for us is over now."

Senator Maggio scowled at her and asked in a low voice, "Are you forgetting that Augustus's wife is present?"

Julia looked embarrassed, "All I meant was that the manuscript has been destroyed."

"No it hasn't," Conan said. "Everything on the hard disk in the computer was deleted, and the backup disks were burned, along with what looks like a printed copy of the manuscript," he told them, "but Mr. Augustus was a professional writer. He wouldn't print just one copy of his manuscript. He'd have made one to send to his agent and one for himself."

Mrs. Engstrom asked Thea, "Is it true what the boy says?"

"Yes," Thea answered. "Augustus always made a second copy of every completed manuscript."

"Where did he keep the copies?" the senator asked.

"He always kept his notes and materials for whatever manuscript he was working on currently in the top drawer of that file cabinet." She pointed, and everyone turned to look. It was the drawer that had been standing open. "Since he said the manuscript had been completed, there should have been two copies of the manuscript in that drawer, as well."

Buck peered inside and shook his head. "It's empty."

"Maybe both copies were burned." Laura's voice was high-pitched and excited with hope.

The senator bent to study the contents of the fireplace. "I doubt it," he said. "Considering that we know there were at least two hundred and fifty-five typewritten pages in that manuscript, if not more, there isn't enough ash here to account for two manuscripts."

"If there is another copy, then we should look for it," Alex said.

"Do we really want it found?" Laura asked.

"I think we do," the senator answered. "It will show up sooner or later, and if it got into the wrong hands, it might pose a future threat."

"Are you talking about blackmail?" asked Buck.

Julia said, "We'll find the manuscript, the destroy it without reading it. Agreed?"

Buck said, "If Augustus hid it, then it's probably somewhere in this room."

"We could divide the room into sections," Julia suggested. "Two of us could take the bookcase, two the file cabinets, two the desk…"

"While Augustus is… still here?" questioned Laura.

Rachel couldn't stand it any longer and shouted, "You can't search this room! It's Aunt Thea's house!"

"Rachel dear," Thea said, "what happened to Augustus is horrible. But I can't believe that he could have threatened and frightened all of our guests as he did. It was unforgivable of him! I agree with them that the manuscript should be found and destroyed."

"Before the police get here?"

Thea said, "I think that finding the manuscript _before _the police arrive would be preferable."

"Let's get busy," Julia said.

Senator Maggio took charge by immediately making up a list of rules and assigning everyone places. They each went to their sections and began removing books, papers, and anything else in sight- only neatly, putting them back the way they had been, so everything would be in order when the police arrived.

As Conan watched them work, he had a chance to go over things that had been said, and he began to wonder about Julia. She was a writer. She should know about the importance of manuscripts. Yet she was the first one to tell them that the manuscript had been destroyed. She hadn't remembered her own stories and characters…

Buck had worked gingerly through each side of the desk, opening drawers with a handkerchief, and taking care not to touch Augustus. But he finished, finding nothing, and had joined Julia, who was meticulously removing books from the large bookcase and peering behind them.

Conan noticed something protruding from under the sleeve of Augustus's velvet jacket, near his right elbow. It seemed to be a small stack of envelopes, and they looked very much like those that held the clues Augustus had given to his guests the night before. Conan quietly walked over and slid out the stack, turned the over, and on top, printed in bright blue ink, was the name _Alex Chambers, Game Clue #2_.

Conan thumbed through the envelopes and, just as he thought, there was one for each of the guests. Augustus had told them that he'd have more clues for them to figure out. Obviously, here was the batch he had intended to hand out to them right after breakfast.

Buck leaned against the bookcase, his face more flushed than ever. "That manuscript is not in this room," he said. "Are we going to have to search ever room in the entire house to find it?"

"It's not as if we have a choice," the senator told him.

But Conan held up the envelopes and said, "Yes you do. These must be the next set of clues."

"Clues for what?" Laura asked. "Weren't they for finding some kind of treasure or something?"

Conan shrugged. "Maybe the manuscript was supposed to be the treasure. Mr. Augustus said it would be a significant treasure. What's significant about the treasure hunt? Remember, he said that if you could solve the clues you could get your story removed from his manuscript? It makes sense, then, doesn't it, that the clue solvers would find the manuscript itself?"

"It does make sense," the senator said slowly, "especially since it seems as though the manuscript has been hidden."

"So you may be able to find it though the clues," Rachel said.

"It's worth a try," Conan agreed.

Julia stepped up and pulled the envelopes from Conan's hand, riffling thought them until she found the one with her name on it. She shoved the other envelopes back into Conan's hand and started out of the room.

Conan called out, "Wait a minute. It could take forever if you work alone. Why don't you try to solve the clues together?"

"I don't think so," Senator Maggio said, "not if they're like the first set Augustus gave us."

Thea said, "I'm going to be blunt about it. If your clues were like mine, then they let you know exactly what it was Augustus planned to include about each of you in his book."

"You're right!" Laura said, and groaned. "No one's going to see my clue!"

"What if no one understood the clue except you?" Rachel asked. "And what if you put all the clues together and came up with where the manuscript is hidden?"

"I don't know," Buck said, and rubbed his chin as he though about it.

"I don't like the idea of sharing information," Julia announced.

"Okay," Conan said. "It was just an idea. I'm sure you have all weekend to go though every chest, trunk, cupboard and closet in this whole house. You might find the manuscript that way."

For a moment everyone was silent.

"I like Rachel's idea," Alex said. "But I want to put a qualifier in there… I suggest that we take a short break and read our clues. If they're not as personal as our first set, then it does make sense to share them. We can meet in the dining room in about half an hour."

Laura hesitated. "What should we do about the first set of clues Augustus gave us?"

"Let just see what's in the second set before we decide anything," he answered.

Senator Maggio smoothed down a single strand of hair over his bald head and grimaced. "I suppose we're all in this together. All right. I have no objections."

"Then let's get out of here and get to work," Laura said.

They quickly fled from the room…

**To Be Continued…**


	7. Chapter Seven

**Murder Game**

**Chapter Seven**

**By Ronin S. Oath**

Half an hour later, the group seated themselves around the highly polished table. Julia cleared her throat several times, Laura sniffled, and Buck made a kind of humming growling noise.

The senator was first to speak, "I assume that we have all read our clues… I, for one, have determined that mine is not personal in nature, as that first clue was." He removed the sheet of paper inside the envelope, and laid it directly in front of him.

The others followed his example.

"What does this all mean?" Laura questioned.

The senator scowled at his paper as though it would turn around and bite him.

Buck squinted hard at his clue and rubbed his chin again.

Alex and Julia glanced up from their papers to study the other faces in the room.

"Have any of you figured out your clues yet?" Julia asked. "Mine tells me nothing."

"What does it say?" Laura questioned.

Julia held her paper a little closer to her chest and turned towards the senator. "Have we decided if we're going to share them?"

Laura slapped her paper flat on the table. "Mine is nothing, but the name of a dumb playing card. Did we all get the same thing?"

"Not exactly," Alex answered. "Mine begins the same: _ONE WILL BE ABOVE ALL_. But I've got the King of Diamonds."

"Jack of Clubs," replied Buck as he tossed his paper into the center of the table.

"I have the Nine of Diamonds," Thea said.

"Mine is the Queen of Hearts," Julia added.

"Rachel and Conan are right in suggesting that we work together," Thea cut in. "Apparently that's what my husband intended us to do. He set us apart with the first clues, then probably intended to how long it would take us to realize we had to work together on the second."

Julia shrugged. "What are we supposed to do now with these stupid clues?"

"We should look for other meanings to the clues and try as many angles as we can," Conan said.

"Like what?" Laura asked.

Conan quickly wrote down what everyone got on their clues. "Is there anything special about what you've gotten?"

There was a moment of silence.

Laura poked Conan in the ribs and whispered, "Well? Well?"

"Give me time," Conan mumbled. Then said to the group, "I think we have to keep in mind the words that begin all the clues: _ONE WILL BE ABOVE ALL_. From what we've learned so far, what do you think this means?"

"If we're talking about the cards themselves," Alex said, "spades are the top suit."

"Suit, maybe," Senator Maggio said, looking firmly at Conan, "but in card value, Ace is the top."

"Or it could be the king," Rachel insisted.

Alex spoke up, "Has anyone noticed that there is a run of ace, king, queen, jack, ten and nine? Could that mean something?"

No one answered.

Conan quickly wrote it down, just in case it did.

Finally, Julia said, "Let's think in a different direction. If Augustus meant _things_, not _cards_, then in value you can't beat diamonds."

"Good point," Rachel added.

Conan wrote it down.

"Let go into the sun-room," Thea said to the others. "It's much nicer there."

Conan didn't join the others in the sun-room. He took the pad of notes, a pen and the clues to his (and Rachel's) room, and then walked down the hall to Augustus's bedroom. _'I need more answers… Maybe I'll be able to find them here…'_

The room was so silent and dark that Conan quickly fumbled for the light switch before he closed the door behind him. It was cold, as though the dampness from the storm had seeped through the walls…

Over the windows heavy, tapestry-like draperies had been drawn, shutting out most of the light. The massive high-posted, king-sized bed was covered with a spread made of the same dull tapestry. A maroon overstuffed chair, brass lamp, and table were grouped in one corner of the room. All sorts of photographs of famous people cluttered not only the walls of the room, but also the tops of the chest and table.

Conan found himself standing next to another door. Conan opened the door to find a large white-and-black-tiled bathroom that was even colder than the bedroom. Rain beat against the small window, seeping through the crack at the bottom and staining the wall like tear streaks down a dirty face. A white shower curtain closed off the tub.

Conan shoved the shower curtain aside so that he could check the tub, but instead he froze in midair.

He clung to the curtain with fingers as tight and stiff as claws, unable to move. His mouth was open, but not a sound came out, and he couldn't look away!

Augustus's bloody, twisted face stared up at him from the bottom of the tub!

**To Be Continued…**

I know, I know… Everyone hates cliff hangers! Please don't maim or kill me! And please, please, please leave a review!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Murder Game**

**Chapter Eight**

**By Ronin S. Oath**

"What are you doing in here?" a low voice asked.

Conan swung around, slamming right into Walter, who clutched his shoulder to keep him from falling. "But he's in his office… And in the bathtub… Where? Why?"

"Please be quiet," Walter said. "If you'll stop from making so much noise, I'll explain." Walter gave Conan a gentle push in the direction of the bedroom and pulled the shower curtain closed before he followed the boy out of the bathroom and locked the door. "Since it will be two days before the storm will subside and we'll be able to notify the police, I deemed it prudent to store Mr. Augustus's body in a room which could be kept at a cool temperature."

"But what about when the police get here? Doesn't the body have to be just the way it was when we found it? I mean, they'd be able to find clues that would tell who murdered him…"

"You didn't answer my question," Walter interrupted.

"I couldn't decipher the second group of clues," Conan answered. "I looked around Augustus's room to see if I could learn something…"

"And find the manuscript?" he asked.

"I guess I had that in mind too…"

"Did you find it?"

"No. Someone searched the room before I did," Conan answered, and explained about the messy drawers. "Whoever it was must have been looking for the manuscript."

"Do you think they found it?"

"No. I'm pretty sure they didn't."

Walter rose an inch taller and became butler-like again. "Luncheon has been served. I was sent to find you."

When Conan entered the dining room, everyone stopped talking and looked at him.

"Well?" Laura asked.

"I haven't had enough time," Conan said. Conan sat down, with napkin in his lap and a salad in front of him.

"Where have you been?" questioned Senator Maggio.

"In Mr. Augustus's room," Conan replied.

"Why, dear?" Thea questioned, her eyes widening in surprise.

"There are two places most people would hide things in, because they're personal places," Conan said. "I figured that Mr. Augustus would hide whatever he wanted to hide either in his office or in his room. I thought I'd look."

"But aren't you the one who said we should work on the clues instead of wasting time searching for the manuscript?" Julia demanded.

The senator put down his fork, his salad untasted. "Augustus spoke of giving us clues throughout the weekend. There must be a series of clues he'd prepared for us. The question is, where are they?"

"What did you find, Conan?" Rachel questioned.

"No clues and no manuscript," Conan answered, "but I did find that someone had already searched through all the drawers in the chest and the wardrobe."

No one said anything for a long time. Everyone at the table shot questioning glances at the others.

Finally, Senator Maggio said, "We have to assume that one of us found the manuscript."

Walter came in and began removing the salad plates and substituting some kind of soup with chunks of tomatoes and shrimp in it.

"I can't take much more of this," Alex blurted out. "While we're eating lunch, I don't want to hear another word about the manuscript or the murder! We have to talk about something, anything, else!"

There was a long, miserable moment of silence. The dining room was an interior room and didn't have windows, but the storm was still loud enough that they could hear burst of rain and wind slamming against the house.

Walter came in to take the soup plates and bring in chocolate éclairs.

"None for me, thank you," Laura and Julia said together, but Buck reached out and clamped his fingers around Walter's wrist.

"I'll eat theirs," he said.

When they had finished lunch and were waiting for Thea to stand, Alex suddenly said, "Augustus had planned to give us more clues." Alex half stood as he reached into the hip pocket on his very snug jeans. He pulled out a wad of envelopes and laid them on the table.

"What are those?" Senator Maggio asked, although they could already see the names printed in blue ink and _Game Clue #3 _printed on them.

"Where did you get those?" Thea asked.

"Where'd these come from? What's this all about?" Buck asked.

"I happened upon them," Alex said.

"Where? When?"

Alex scowled. "Where and when doesn't matter. The point is that I found them."

Julia stretched to reach the envelope with her name on it and slid it across the table until she could pick it up. "My envelope's been opened!"

"What difference does it make?" Alex asked.

"You opened all of them so you could read ours as well as yours!"

"That's right," he said. "I thought it would help me find the manuscript."

Senator Maggio put on his most fearful voice. "I assumed we were working together."

Alex shrugged.

"Working together seems to be our only chance to succeed," Thea told them.

"Maybe," Alex said. "In any case, I wasn't able to figure them out. Does that make you happy?"

Laura sniffed self-righteously and said, "At least we know we can't trust Alex any more."

"No sermons," Alex said. "I've given you the next set of clues. Do you want them, or not?"

Thea rose. "Let's take them to the sun-room."

**To Be Continued…**


	9. Chapter Nine

**Murder Game**

**Chapter Nine**

**By Ronin S. Oath**

'_One of them is the murder. But which one is it?_'

Alex's expression was blank, Julia's was puzzled, and Thea's was concerned. The others were steaming. Something had really made them angry.

"Are you feeling alright, Conan?" Thea asked. "You look a little flushed."

"Huh? Oh, I'm okay," Conan reassured her. "What kind of clues did you get this time?"

"Clues?!?" Laura threw her sheet of paper at him. "These aren't clues! They're just more of Augustus's nasty comments!"

On the sheet of paper was typed: _SHE LAID AN EGG, AND IT WAS A DOOZY._

"What Augustus wrote to me isn't very flattering either," Senator Maggio said, "and I have no idea why he had to drag my family into this."

"What does your clue say?" Conan asked.

He laid the paper on the table so they could read.

_THE BALD EAGLE HAS MANY KIN._

"At least he didn't take potshots at your love life," Buck muttered. "It isn't Augustus's business or anyone else's that Eloise and I are having a trial separation."

"Is that what your clue says?" Conan asked.

"Here," Buck said, "read it yourself."

In the middle of the paper was typed: _SHE IS LOST AND GONE FOREVER. DREADFUL SORRY, PAPPY._

"Isn't that part of a song?" Rachel asked. "_Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine. She is lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry, Clementine_."

"Is your wife's name Clementine?" Laura asked Buck.

"No, it isn't," Buck snapped back.

Thea suddenly broke in. "If Buck's clue came from a song, then I'm wondering if mine did as well…" Thea then laid her paper onto the table for them to read.

_DARLING, I AM GROWING OLD._

"That's a song, Aunt Thea?" Rachel questioned.

"Long ago it was a very popular song," Thea answered. "It begins like this: '_Darling, I am growing old. Sliver threads among the gold shine upon my brow today; life is fading fast away'_."

Alex laid his paper on the table. "Two of the clues may be tied into songs, but I doubt that mine is. It makes no sense!"

_IT WASN'T ENTIRELY JASON'S FAULT._

"Who's Jason?"

Alex shrugged. "I have no idea. I don't know any one with the name Jason."

"Jason is a common name," Julia told him. "Think about it… Maybe he is a neighbor or a business associate…"

"I don't know a Jason!" Alex snapped.

Julia sighed, laying her own clue down.

_TAKE A LITTLE SOMETHING FROM OLIIVER, THE POET._

"Take what?" Buck asked. "What could you take from a poet?"

"His words," Conan said.

"I don't get it…"

"He means plagiarize," the senator grumbled.

Julia's face became blotched with pink. "But I don't read poetry."

Buck got to his feet. "None of this makes sense!"

Alex slowly stood. "I'm going to do a little searching myself. Maybe in the butler's pantry. Remember the old saying 'The butler did it'? And a search of the wine cellar sounds like a good idea."

Laura shook her head, and headed towards the door. "I wouldn't be of any help. The clues are way too confusing for me. I've got a terrible headache anyways, so I'm just going to go up to my room and take a nice, long nap."

Mrs. Engstrom came into the room with a tea pot and a tray of cups and saucers. "Hot tea tastes good on a rainy day," she said. "I'll be glad when the storm is over. Thomas is upset because he's running low on sugar and salad greens, and I can't send in my computer order. I wouldn't dare turn on my computer with only the generator to power it." Mrs. Engstrom sighed. "The latest reports on the radio say that the storm should be over by Monday…"

**To Be Continued…**


End file.
